"
Guidobaldo, too, restrained Gian Maria, and countermanded his order for
the lowering of the bridge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up
to him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait
until night had fallen.
"Wait until night, fool!" blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce
joy at finding one whom he might rend. "If I wait until then, my throne
is lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault,
you Judas!" he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; "but you at
least shall pay for what you have done."
Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing
scream broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his breast.
Too late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke.
And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga sank
dead on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly poniarded
Aventano.
"Throw me that carrion into the moat," growled Gian Maria, still
quivering with rage that had prompted his ferocious act.
He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common
grave.
After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked on
in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with
whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy.
As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to
realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he
piously crossed himself.
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